There’s a perennial appeal to medical TV shows.

A hospital – as a kind of self-contained environment – is a great context for the study of different characters, and there’s something about the episodic format that fits with the idea of having to treat different illnesses on different days.

Each episode can involve a panoply of different acute cases, and there’s space around this to develop the kinds of character quirks and interpersonal relationships that fuel TV drama.

Add to this the high-pressure context of working in a hospital emergency department, and we can see why hospitals have been enduringly popular settings for TV over the years, from Dr. Kildare (1961-66) to ER (1994-2009) to House (2004-12).

Comedy drama, The F Ward, is the latest Australian medical show. And it’s a good one.

Created by Dan Edwards and Kelsey Munro, the show is centred around the emergency department in The Pines Hospital, a fictional hospital on Sydney’s Northern Beaches that offers the last chance for failing medical interns to prove their mettle and become full-fledged doctors.

Despite references to real Sydney places and hospitals such as the Royal Prince Alfred Hospital, we realise – when we see that the hospital literally opens onto the beach and the interns walk across dunes when they knock off – that this kind of fantasy of public property investment could only ever occur in the marvellous world of TV land.

A wonderful cast of characters

The premise offers a perfect setup for the screenwriters. Each character can have their own unique defect.

For some, this is comical. Yosef (Rishab Kern) is terrified of doing stitches (a problem for a doctor in emergency) because he nicked a patient’s artery on an earlier internship and then vomited on them.

Josh (Alex Fitzalan) has a tendency to become a little too lusty with gay patients. Some are more serious. Ava (Annie Boyle) uses her self-professed neurodivergence as a smokescreen to avoid working.

Dan Wyllie is compelling as goofy but wise Curtis. Photo: Stan

And then, of course, for the lead characters Ellie (Lola Bond) and Jimmy (Ioane Saula), the stakes are much higher.

Ellie’s an overachiever who killed a patient through error at a previous job, and then hid away for six months. Jimmy is dealing with undiagnosed dizzy spells that severely affect his capacity to work.

They come under the aegis of Gloria Wall (Anna Friel), a strong willed but benevolent task master who demands the best from the interns as she does from herself as a surgeon (“Whatever you do this is your last chance – don’t f–k it up this time,” she tells them sternly on their first day), and Curtis Parker (Dan Wyllie), an eccentric avuncular type who’s always willing to bend the rules if it’s the right thing to do for a patient – or to support one of the interns.

A light touch

The show’s inevitably soapy quality (not necessarily bad for an episodic TV show) is offset by its genuinely wry sense of humour and a touch so light the episodes feel like they breeze by you.

There are some very funny moments, reminiscent of the strain of organisational Aussie comedy epitomised by names such as Frontline (1994-97) and Utopia (2014-23), but it never feels like it’s playing for laughs.

The show’s soapy quality is offset by its genuinely wry sense of humour. Photo: Stan

Accomplished screen and stage actor Wyllie is compelling as goofy but wise Curtis. Relative newcomer Bond is similarly magnetic as the annoying, highly-strung Ellie.

The series also features excellent actors such as Justin Rozniak in guest spots, and appearances throughout by seasoned actors including Jeremy Sims, Susie Porter and Toby Schmitz.

Music from composer Richard Pike is minimal but effective. As with Sam Hobbs’ production design, it harks back to the 1990s heyday of Australian broadcast TV serials.

There’s a little bit of Breakers (1998-99) here, a bit of Dog’s Head Bay (1999), and, of course, All Saints (1998-2009).

Photo: Stan

But the effectiveness of the combination of humour, drama and icky details – there are at least a couple of close ups of scalpels cutting people open in each episode, not to mention organs being rotated by hand – set The F Ward apart from these earlier shows.

If anything, it is more akin to Lars Von Trier’s (much more bonkers) The Kingdom (1994, 1997 and 2022) than other medical shows. At the same time, I can’t think of a recent Australian TV drama that feels so effortless.

There are only six 45-minute episodes in the first season, and I can imagine it would be pretty easy to watch all of them on a lazy night.

The F Ward streams on Stan from July 17

This article is republished from The Conversation under a Creative Commons licence. Read the original article